Debut Match (2)

"I can go even on farm against this K'Sante and it won't be bad."

"Focus on jungling, pull ahead in levels, and look toward the late game?"

"Yasuo for real?"

"It's an Ahri counter, so it should be fine."

The champion I'd locked in was Yasuo.

With the Wind Wall on his W, he could hard-counter ranged champions, and against ranged matchups he brought a strong laning phase and excellent side-lane pressure.

"I tried it out this patch — Death's Dance and Immortal Shieldbow got some solid buffs."

Infinity Edge's attack damage had gone from 70 to 80, and its critical strike damage had climbed from 40% to 50%.

Not building it was basically throwing.

On top of that, Immortal Shieldbow and crit items across the board — plus ranged items in general — had all been buffed, so there was zero reason not to pick them up.

And Yasuo and Yone didn't even get nerfed.

This season had brought crit-item buffs alongside a general ADC nerf wave, but Yone and Yasuo had slipped through unscathed.

People had roasted the patch for being a shameless new-skin cash grab, but from where I was sitting, it was a gift.

The game got underway, and early on I settled into a measured farm-and-trade pattern, taking the hits I had to take.

Their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jungle was Xin Zhao, strong in skirmishes, while ours was Lillia, who won on clear speed — so the early map tilted against us in a predictable way.

Even so, this was a late-game teamfight meta. Giving up one Rift Herald and one Dragon was about the extent of the damage.

"Can we take a fight on the next Dragon?"

Game time: twelve minutes. Second Dragon was spawning.

Mid and top were all four players at level 10. Bot lane had the ADC at 9 and the support at 7.

"I'm up a level right now, actually."

In the jungle, though, Lillia was 10 and Xin Zhao was 9 — we held the edge there.

"Buy Mercury's and TP back mid."

The enemy team had a lot of CC, so this game I went Mercury's Treads instead of Berserker's Greaves.

Then I burned the Teleport I'd been holding and snapped back to mid lane.

Comps are roughly even.

The gold and XP gaps between the two ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sides weren't dramatic either.

This Dragon fight was going to come down to pure teamfight execution.

"ARK looks like they're ready to make a move."

"Exactly. They gave up the Dragon, they gave up the Herald — and now they're saying, enough. No more freebies."

"Also, with the tier-two boots looking solid across the board this patch, everyone's been rushing shoes. Nobody's finished a first item yet."

"Right. Neither comp is getting hard-stomped on paper. This is going to come down to how the fight actually plays out."

"Ahri's snap Charm—! But Para reacts like it's nothing and shuts it down with Wind Wall!"

"Ahri just burned Flash — you can't just sit there and watch, right?"

"ARK clearly agrees, because here comes Ornn's Call of the Forge God— BOOM!"

"Ornn's ultimate connects on Xin Zhao, Aphelios, and Lulu!"

"And right on cue, Para's Yasuo chains his ultimate off it!"

"BU needs to get out. If they don't leave right now, they're all dead."

"The second she reacted to that Charm out of the brush, BU's entire setup just collapsed."

"We'll need the replay to be sure, but BU had definitely cleared vision on that brush. Reacting to that completely blind is just... incredible."

"And here's the replay. Look at this... yeah, Lama is not the kind of support who leaves a ward like that."

"Reacting to a Charm-Flash flying out of a brush with zero vision — that's the kind of play ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that delivers on every expectation the audience had."

"Alright, back to the match!"

Nice!

In the coach's office next to the practice room, Kim Hanseong clenched a fist and cheered silently as he watched the match.

Signing Yoon Seoha had drawn heavy pushback from both the front office and the players.

She'd won an amateur tournament, sure — but outside of Kim Hanseong himself, almost nobody had bothered to watch every streamer invitational on the calendar.

To them, Yoon Seoha was just a pretty middle-school girl who'd hit solo queue number one.

The stress of listening to every stakeholder take a turn tearing into him for offering a top-tier salary and accepting every bizarre contract clause she'd asked for — he still felt it.

They're all watching now, though.

But now everyone would know.

The players sharing the Rift with her. The people who'd told Kim Hanseong he was wrong.

His eye for talent had never been wrong.

The game unfolding on the monitor was a one-sided slaughter.

Anyone who didn't know better would have sworn they were watching pros farm amateurs.

But to Kim Hanseong, it only felt inevitable.

I didn't sign her to play at this level in the first place.

In Kim Hanseong's estimation, Yoon Seoha's talent put her among the top five players in the LCK — the primary domestic league — at minimum.

Given the absurd contract demands he'd accepted and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠risk that came with them, she needed to hard-carry a Challengers League roster just to break even on the investment.

The words coming through the speakers were ones Kim Hanseong fully agreed with.

Players in their debut match tended to split two ways.

Either they froze up, did nothing, and somehow limped to the end of the game —

Or they got drunk on confidence, forced everything, and threw the match into a dumpster fire.

Yoon Seoha fit neither mold.

When the moment demanded it, she committed without hesitation. But she never overheated beyond what the game required.

...She plays like a veteran.

Watching Yoon Seoha, the feeling that settled over Kim Hanseong was that of a seasoned pro with years of mileage behind her.

More precisely — the rare few who sat at the absolute peak, the ones people called monsters.

She had that same quality.